


Duel at Troy

by DesertVixen



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Achilles Heel, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, Gen, Regency House Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 04:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/pseuds/DesertVixen
Summary: Trojan War meets Regency House Party - Penthesilea tries to avert a duel between Hector and Achilles





	Duel at Troy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alexandria (heartfullofelves)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/gifts).



Lady Penthesilea galloped out of the Trojan stables. 

This really was quite the most horrible house party she had ever been to, she reflected as she rode along what she thought was the most likely path Lord Hector would have taken. 

The house party itself had been ill-conceived. She would never understand what had possessed the Earl of Atreus to purchase an estate that bordered the lands belonging to the Earl of Troy, after his brother’s fiancée had absconded with the youngest son of the house and married him. That was quite enough. Then, he had seen fit to invite every lord he knew to come to a house party – a house party that had gone on quite long enough. She was not quite sure what Atreus expected, but Penthesilea was fairly certain she had no intention of leaving Lord Paris.

Penthesilea had been sent to visit the Earl of Troy – Priam, to his friends – by her mother because she had acted quite stupid, and had a horrible fight with her sister Hippolyta. Lyta had been sent elsewhere, but their mother had felt Penthesilea would benefit from a different perspective.

It had not been all bad. She had enjoyed riding with Hector – he was just as keen on horses as she was – but they were merely friends. Sadly, the only man she felt any attraction for was a guest of the Earl of Atreus. 

He was Lord Achilles, and lived on an estate near the sea with his mother. She had heard of him, of course. Achilles was the complete Corinthian - a man who was handy with both sword and pistol, as well as his fives. He rode like he was one with the horse, and drove to an inch. Achilles was also rumored to have fought in duels, and at least one opponent had claimed that nothing seemed to cause him any true pain. Hearing of him and his exploits was one thing, but seeing him riding in all his golden glory, as if he was one with the horse, was another altogether.

Penthesilea knew that her fight with Lyta had not been the only reason her mother had sent her here. Lady Otrera was also hoping that her eldest daughter would find a suitable man, but so far there had been no luck. Penthesilea was bored with so many of them – shallow men who expected her to be shallow as well. Men who expected her to be content with a dainty ride in a country lane when she really wanted to gallop freely over the fields – perhaps hunting the fox, but just riding, not caring about the neatness of her habit or coiffure. Men who expected her to simper when she had a brain.

Hector did not do any of these things, but he was already betrothed to a lovely girl, Andromache. She wished them every happiness.

That was why she was trying to find Hector. She had no idea why he had let one of Atreus’ guests get under his skin, but she was not surprised that he wanted to settle it in an honorable fashion. That was Hector all over – a man of honor, fiercely defensive of his family’s honor, and a little hot-headed. If it was anyone besides Achilles, Penthesilea would have left Hector to his own devices. She felt, however, that any fight between the two men could only end in one of them dying.

She simply had to stop it. Penthesilea drew her mount up and listened, looking down at the trail before making a decision. She hoped it was the right one.

*** 

Lord Achilles stood in the small clearing, facing Lord Hector. They were waiting for their seconds to finish the rituals of preparing for the duel, but there was no way that Achilles would cry off. Hector had made cutting remarks about his dear friend Patroclus, and Achilles had no intention of letting that go unpunished. It was not logical, but his feelings for his young friend were not logical.

He had just been ready to leave this ridiculous party as well. He did not even like the Earl of Atreus – he had not liked him to start with, and none of his actions during this house party had given Achilles any reason to change that opinion. The argument over which of them should have the favors of the woman named Briseis had been the last straw. The Earl of Atreus – Agamemnon to his friends – was not worth any of Achilles’ time.

It was a shame, really. Achilles had no real quarrel with any of the Trojans – let Atreus fight his own battles for a change – but he had somehow let Lord Odysseus talk him into attending. Yet here he stood, ready to fight and kill an honorable man, who might have otherwise been a friend.

Achilles knew something that Hector did not, and that was that there was only one real place that he could be harmed, thanks to his mother. Hector would be aiming for his heart, and there was no real threat.

The formalities concluded, Achilles and Hector took up their place in the middle of the clearing, pistols pointing down at the ground. The order to take ten paces came, and Achilles walked forward. He could hear his opponent’s steps, and he wondered what would happen if he fired into the air. He wondered where Hector would be aiming.

He stopped and turned, faced Hector across the clearing. For a moment, neither of them moved. 

Just as Achilles was beginning to squeeze the trigger, a magnificent figure – a woman on a dark horse, dark hair flying out behind her – jumped between him and Hector. Surprised, he quickly fired into the air, and heard Hector do the same.

“Lady Penthesilea!” Achilles watched as she turned towards Hector, still atop her mount. “What are you doing?”

“Saving you from your own pride!” Her voice was no ladylike whisper, but a shout as loud as Hector’s own.

Achilles went to stand beside the horse. “May I help you down?”

She turned to face him, her face framed by her dark hair, and Achilles was struck by her beauty. There was only one other person whose beauty had struck him in quite the same way. He wondered if she felt what he felt – an instant connection. “You may,” she said after a long moment.

Penthesilea was surprised at the strength in his hands as he helped lift her down, wondered at how strange she felt with those hands on her waist. Once she was on the ground, she kicked him in the heel.

“What was that for?” He gasped, truly in pain. Did she know, somehow?

“Both of you are acting shamefully. If I were a man, I would want to fight both of you myself for making complete fools of yourself.” She turned to Hector, who was keeping his distance. “Andromache is quite worried sick. Surely honor is satisfied now, as both of you fired.”

Hector walked up to Achilles, hand outstretched. “I wish you would accept my apologies. My remarks to Patroclus were uncalled for.”

Achilles nodded. “I will accept.”

They shook hands, and Penthesilea smiled. She was the most striking woman Achilles had ever seen.

Perhaps, he thought, it was not time to leave the house party just yet…

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun with this.
> 
> I tried to preserve the general story, but work them into the Regency house party sort of story. I fall in the camp that says Achilles and Patroclus were definitely more than close friends, but I've always liked Penthesilea as well. I do think it was a shame Hector and Achilles had to be on different sides, so fixing that and not having Hector killed was quite nice. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
